


The Act of Creation

by Ira_Dunfort



Series: The Grey Fledgling [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: A Second South Downs Cottage, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kid Fic, M/M, Paperwork, Porn with Feelings, Pregnancy, She/Her Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 15:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20819498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ira_Dunfort/pseuds/Ira_Dunfort
Summary: The one in which the Antichrist gives Beelzebub and Gabriel the birds and bees talk.Spoiler: It's too late.





	The Act of Creation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eshnoazot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eshnoazot/gifts), [AEpixie7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEpixie7/gifts).

> It was a stupid idea. I told AEpixie7 and Eshnoazot about said stupid idea. They agree it is, in fact, a very stupid idea but also yelled _DO IT DO IIIIT_ at me. If you want actual quality content, go read theirs. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Things had changed after Gabriel and Beelzebub had more or less legally purchased a piece of land with a cottage in the South Downs, just a few plots away from the primary earthbound celestial couple. 

Naturally, the first thing that had changed was the amount of sex happening. Once they had the privacy of a home, every room in said home had to be tested for sturdy surfaces. The shower wall after Gabriel's morning jog. The kitchen table, where things were allowed to get sticky. Their spacious office desks in the living room, preferably Gabriel's since it had less lethal objects and substances littered on it. 

Of course, the bed had proven to be useful as well, soft and warm and feeling like a nest with all the useless decorative pillows the angel had insisted on buying. One of those pillows was propped under the lower back of a moaning demon who was shuddering violently as the eleventh orgasm of the night ripped through her corporation. Bless angels and their stubborn stamina. Gabriel, smug asshole that he was, had reduced the Prince of Hell to a pliant and whimpering mess writhing weakly on sweaty lavender-coloured sheets, twitching legs falling open as Gabriel kissed her neck.

"Do you need me to stop?" He asked, slowing his thrusts, going _deep_ instead of fast.

"No." Beelzebub breathed, blinking her stark blue eyes open. 

Gabriel pulled back and smiled at her. "You look like you're about to pass out, honey."

"I won't yield to an _angel_." She croaked. "Not even you." 

He huffed a laugh, leaning back down to pepper her heated skin with kisses. "We’re not fighting here, are we."

"No." She faintly rolled her hips against him. The angle, thanks to the pillow, sending sparks flying before her eyes and her abdomen twitched painfully, deliriously. She wanted _more_. "Can you come again? One more? Please?"

Gabriel shook his head in exasperation. "Always the glutton." He spoke into the crook of her offered neck as he sped up again, working his way towards his own seventh orgasm.

It had taken him by force, but it was well worth it. He grit his teeth to endure it all, to keep his eyes open and watch Beelzebub fall apart underneath him, keening as she felt him fill her up once again. It was a breathtaking ordeal, for the both of them.

Mindful of his weight, Gabriel shifted to lie on his forearms, lowering himself down onto the gasping demon. 

"You ok?" He whispered, nuzzling her jawline. 

"You were right. I'ma pass out now." She answered, voice broken with exhaustion, her body shivering ever so slightly in the aftermath of her twelfth climax. 

Despite knowing better, Gabriel had to ask. "Do you want me to clean you up?"

She waved a hand that flopped right back onto the mattress. "Don't you _dare_."

He kissed her one more time before slowly retreating from her body, endeared by the quiet moan of her. He put all the strewn pillows back in place and covered her with the duvet. She was already gone, breath slow and even. Gabriel pushed sweaty strands from her forehead with a smile. 

With a fair amount of pride in his chest, he left the bedroom to shower and get back to his desk. Neither of them usually slept, nights on earth were spent going through paperwork, filling forms and shared rude comments about unreasonable complaints. She had earned a little rest now, hadn't she?

  


  


The second thing that had changed, slowly but surely, was Beelzebub taking naps. Gabriel had thought it to be another side effect of their rather domestic life in the cottage, less stress from the botched Armageddon and rioting demons. It was a quiet and small village, most noise being either from Crowley's misconceptions of good music or playing children, more often than not a combination of both. 

Gabriel and Beelzebub were visiting the other angel and demon couple. Crowley was outside in the warm autumn sun, teaching three neighbourhood kids how to craft their own kites, glue and paint all over his fingers, broad smile all over his face. 

Aziraphale and Gabriel, responsible creatures that they were, tended to discuss the upcoming wedding of young Newt and Anathema. What gifts to bring, when to leave to be there on time, what hotels they'd stay at, opening hours of the local dry cleaning, just in case. 

Beelzebub, her belly being stuffed with cake and biscuits and tea provided by the hosting angel, started to doze off. _That_ had been new. If a topic were boring her, she'd make her resentment about known with snide words or leave to pester Crowley for fun. But, at that moment, her eyes were drifting shut, and her head fell to Gabriel's shoulder. This time, there wasn't a reason the archangel could think of that would explain her being tired. Nonetheless, he kissed her temple and lowered her head to his lap.

Aziraphale pointed at the slumbering demon. "Am I mistaken, or did she just fall asleep?"

"I guess so." Gabriel answered quietly. "She picked up napping recently."

"Must be a demon thing." The other angel whispered, taking another sip of cocoa.

Gabriel carded his finger through her grown black hair. "Right." He said absentmindedly.

  


  


The third change was her eating habits. Being a creature of gluttony, she always dug in. This particular night at a restaurant nearby, she had made an odd request.

"Can I have the salad this time?" She asked Gabriel, eyes flicking between him and the small plate of the usual side order salad served with any meal.

"You know I only consume it because you never eat your greens." He pushed the plate back towards her. "Go ahead."

Beelzebub had the palette of a petulant child. She wouldn't eat her vegetables, she wouldn't touch the salad, but it was a safe bet that she'd order at least two desserts. It was wasteful, but Gabriel had given up on complaining about it and started to eat her leftovers 'like a proper boyfriend', as he was told. 

Tonight, she enjoyed the lettuce leaves and tomatoes and slices of cucumber and carrot with gusto. 

"Changed your mind on eating healthier, sweetheart?" Gabriel asked, nursing his white wine.

"Don't call me that." Another small tomato was popped into her mouth. "I had an appetite for it." She shrugged, poking at the single olive she had found. "The broccoli with almonds wasn't that bad, to be honest."

Gabriel had missed entirely that Beelzebub had eaten the side dish of her extra rare steak, too occupied with their heated talk on the touchy subject of marriage. 

Later, he very much did notice when she ordered another salad instead of her typical hazelnut and chocolate ice cream bowl with Irish cream.

  


  


Which leads us to the Antichrist, who had been watching them at the wedding reception. He stuck to Crowley, who was doodling sweet and cheeky nonsense into the guest book. The red-haired demon seemed to get irritated, eyebrows rising far above his sunglasses. 

Any sign of Armageddon being their business, the archangel and the Lord of Flies joined the two.

“So, angels _can_ impregnate humans?" Adam asked, curious sixteen-year-old that he was.

Without giving Crowley the chance to answer, Gabriel chimed in. "Yes, but it's very much frowned upon."

Adam regarded him for a moment. "Are there any angels who were impregnated by humans?"

Gabriel frowned, starting to understand why Crowley had looked the way he did. "Not that I know of, no."

Adam smacked Crowley's hand when he tried to sneak some glitter from his pocket into the guest book. "And you would know, you're an archangel."

"Yes." He rolled and straightened his shoulders, making Beelzebub roll her eyes in turn.

"But if it works the one way around, why not the other? What could be the reason?" The Antichrist wondered aloud, scratching the fluff on his chin.

Beelzebub started to smirk. "Because angels are sexist twats who prefer to show themselves to humans as men to be more intimidating." She snuck a handful of petit four from a passing waiter. "There wasn't much of a chance to get an angel pregnant."

"Oh, please, intimidating? Look at Aziraphale." Crowley gestured at his husband entertaining the grandparents of the newlyweds.

"Aziraphale isn't a good example, is he now." Beelzebub remarked before biting into another snack.

Adam, not an easily distracted young man, continued. "If male angels have full reproductive, uhm, capacity, why shouldn't female angels have it as well?"

Gabriel hummed thoughtfully. "Good point." He was already digging through his memory, trying to find any possible culprit. 

Another waiter approached them, offering flutes of champagne. Beelzebub declined, the drink just wasn't agreeing with her that day. 

Adam shifted his focus to the Prince of Hell for a moment. "What's the longest any angel remained in a female body, I mean, corporation?"

"With all the effort concerning sexual organs?" Gabriel's brow furrowed, going even deeper though his memory of millennia. "Maybe a week?”

To that, Adam crossed his arms, eyes back on Gabriel. "So no angel ever had the _chance_ to ovulate."

Crowley shook his head, glueing a centuries-old lucky penny into the guest book. "You're such a strange teenager."

Adam clicked his tongue. "You're a strange _demon_."

"True." Both agents of Hell said in tandem.

"As you all have proven, angels and demons are basically the same, just a different colour scheme and political agenda." He pointed at Gabriel's dove blue classic three-piece suit contrasting the black and aubergine colours of Beelzebub's fishnet patterned pinstripe suit with short trousers. 

"Yes." Crowley said, voice wary. "But where are you going with this?"

Adam ruffled his own hair and took a deep breath. "Bella, as you now call her, has been in human female form for a few months now, right?" 

Beelzebub was catching on to the other demon's suspicion. "Almost a year, yes."

"If you ask me," the Antichrist said in a strangely reassuring tone addressing Beelzebub directly, "there is no reason that you can't be having a baby with Gabriel."

Beelzebub's last petit four fell to the ground and was instantly eaten by Dog. Her hand reached for Gabriel's.

"Bella?"

"I'm out." Crowley flipped the guest book shut, several incomprehensible noises escaping his mouth. "So out." He left in a straight line to his husband. "Nope." 

"Bella?" Gabriel repeated, his already unneeded heartbeat racing.

"It's not possible, is it?" Beelzebub's other hand went to her middle instinctively.

Gabriel, struggling with the unknown feeling of panic, vaguely waved a hand at the teenager, his purple eyes not leaving her's. "It _is_ if the Antichrist says so."

"I didn't do anything." Adam quipped. "Question is, did you two do _something?_"

**Author's Note:**

> So that was that. Please tell me what you think, but don't put any bets on my stopping to write this.


End file.
